Moonlit Tears
by EvanescentBeauty
Summary: CHAPTER 6 UP! When Hermione is tortured close to insanity by Lord Voldemort in the final battle, she is also forced to relive things she had shoved into the back of her mind and sworn never to remember...full summary inside.
1. Crucio

**Full Summary:** When Hermione is tortured close to insanity by Lord Voldemort in the final battle, she is also forced to relive memories she never thought she'd have to relive...things she had shoved to the back of her mind and sworn to never remember...who will help her back onto her feet in this tragic time?

Harry/Hermione ship...rated T for strong violence later, sensuality, thematic elements...blah blah blah.

* * *

"Stop! _Stop it!_"

"Harry! _No_! Harry!"

And then it was gone.

Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Neville Longbottom, Luna Lovegood and Ginny Weasley, all arms grasped tightly behind their backs by Death Eaters, watched helplessly from the sidelines as Voldemort released the Cruciatus curse from Harry. Harry let out a groan as the pain was lifted, and he rolled over onto his side, where he tried to push himself up with shaking limbs, but Voldemort sent him tumbling backwards again with a flick of his wand.

"See how it hurts, Harry..." cooed Voldemort lazily, more as a suggestion of appreciation than a question. "See how with a mere flick of my wand, I can send you into such unbearable pain that you feel as though death itself would be better than what you are meant to endure...especially under the eyes of your friends..."

"No..." muttered Harry, seeming to have given up on trying to stand up after his few feeble attempts.

"_Leave him alone_!" screamed Hermione, her face wet with tears, struggling to rip her arms free. "You've done it enough!"

"Please," cried Ginny. "We'll do _anything_!"

Voldemort closed his eyes, more in annoyance than anything else at the melodramatic scene, and turned to face the group of young wizards.

"Do you really think that words will stop me now?" prompted Voldemort, stepping towards the group, and moving towards Ginny. "Do you really think your feeble attempts at bravery, self-sacrifice will do you any good?" He leaned forward and grabbed Ginny's chin, lifting her gaze up. She glared at him with such fury in her eyes, that Voldemort was mildly surprised to see no fear.

"Don't touch me," growled Ginny through clenched teeth, tears of fury streaming from her cinnamon-brown eyes. Voldemort released his grip on her face and stared at her deeply. Taking her chance, Ginny spat in his face venomously. Voldemort wiped the spittle of his face calmly and with disgust and made a motion for the Death Eater to release her.

"What makes you think you have a right to do that?" Voldemort asked quietly.

"We'd do anything now!" shouted Neville, who was standing at the sidelines. Voldemort did not shift his gaze from Hermione's, but she gave a firm nod in agreement with Neville's statement.

There was a second of silence before Voldemort grabbed Ginny's arm fiercely and held her against his side, having her face her line of friends. He held his wand jammed into Ginny's throat like a dagger. She gulped, gasping for breath against his harsh grip.

"_NO_! LET HER GO!" shouted Harry as he scrambled toward Ginny, but their was little he could do as a Death Eater pushed him away.

"Are you scared now?" breathed Voldemort into Ginny's ear.

"No!" she hissed, still struggling for air.

"Stop!" screeched Ron. "Let her go!"

Instead, Voldemort clutched Ginny's throat with his right arm, and with his left arm, poised his wand at the line of wizards. Ginny, her need for air strengthening, grasped Voldemort's cold, pale hand and wrenched hard, trying to loosen his grip. But he did not, and held fast. She began to gag and spasm.

"No!" screamed Hermione. "Ginny!"

"Who among you is most innocent? Who among you has done nothing wrong?" hissed Voldemort. His eyes flicked over the heads of Luna and Neville. With a touch of defiance, Voldemort hissed, "_Avada Kedavra_!"

Hermione and Luna screamed and Harry shouted, "NO!" as Neville crumpled in a heap at his Death Eater's feet. At that moment, Voldemort released Ginny, and she crumpled to the ground with a whimper, clutching her throat and filling her lungs with cold air in large gulps. She barely had time to register that Neville had been killed.

"No..." whispered Harry, pounding a fist on the stone floor in hopelessness. He had failed. Neville was dead.

"How could you!" screamed Hermione, but she already knew the answer.

"Who's next?" shouted Voldemort, kicking Ginny aside harshly. Her eyes filled with tears as she rolled away, her back aching from Voldemort's hard kick.

Voldemort bent down and grabbed Harry's hair, and lifted him up, Harry yelping with pain. Voldemort held Harry much like he had Ginny, only he didn't gag him. Harry struggled against his ruthless grip.

"I want you to watch," hissed Voldemort darkly. "I want you to watch me kill every single one of them."

"No..." gagged Harry, pulling at Voldemort's hands. With a heave, one of the Death Eaters tossed forward Hermione, who stumbled forward clumsily, but managed to keep her balance.

"You filthy coward!" screamed Hermione. "You only attack us if we're bound and tied to your filthy little cronies, feeding us forward like a vending machine!"

Voldemort slashed his wand down and Hermione felt a white-hot line of pain down her cheek, though there was not cut. She clutched her cheek and whimpered as she fell backwards, landing on the cold, hard ground.

"Leave her alone!" shouted Harry, who had managed to crawl over to comfort Ginny.

Far from Harry's plead, Voldemort pointed his wand at Hermione, a gleam in his eyes. Hermione knew from the moment he looked at her what he was going to do, and she braced herself.

"_Crucio!"_

Hermione let out a blood-curdling scream that none of them had ever heard her utter. She felt as though all of her bones had shattered, breaking into a million tiny pieces inside her...her blood was acid, eating her alive...her skin was being burnt with white-hot metals, and every nerve in her body was bursting in protest, screaming for release...

...and then it was gone. There was no lingering sting of pain like after you burn your finger on a hot pan...there was nothing. It was as though the pain had never been there.

Hermione curled into the fetal position and hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Her whimpering sobs echoed through the stone chamber, and she felt Harry's hand over hers, his skin a refreshing cool against what she thought was burning skin.

"I know..." whispered Harry so only she could hear. "I know it hurt..."

"Get away from her!" shouted Voldemort, kicking him away.

"No...!" cried Hermione weakly, flinging over on her side, stretching out her arm, her fingers grasping the air for Harry's fingers, yet knowing that she would not reach them.

This time, there was no warning.

"_Crucio!"_

And then the pain was back...everything inside of her screamed in protest, wanting release.

_Anything is better than this..._she thought quietly, even in her mind. _I would take death over this..._

Suddenly, she felt like two cold hands were wrenching around in her mind...pulling everything apart. She barely had time to respond, and suddenly, things were coming up into her mind that she hadn't thought about in years...

It was herself, receiving her first A+ paper...she had been so happy...

...then it was herself receiving what would be her first and only F...it was on a math quiz she hadn't studied for because the family dog had passed away the night before...

...then it was Harry appearing at the end of the maze with Cedric Diggory...lying there cold and dead...

Hermione let out a scream as the she realized that the Cruciatus curse was still being enforced...

The curse was lifted, and the pain left her, as did the recurring memories. She turned over and retched onto the floor. She rolled over onto her other side and looked into Harry's eyes, begging, pleading, imploring him to help her. Harry raised his wand.

"Expel--!"

There was a flash of white light as Voldemort deflected the jinx. Again, he raised his wand and yelled, "Crucio!"

The pain hit Hermione somewhat faster than before, knocking all the breath from her. Struggling for breath, still trying to block out the pain, and again screaming, Hermione writhed and twisted on the cold floor, her fists clenched and her nails digging into her palms. She clenched her teeth and tried to stop screaming, when a new flash of memories hit her...

...The class bully making fun of her abnormally large front teeth...

...Hermione sitting alone in the cafeteria when no one would sit with her...

...Ron constantly insulting her for going out with Krum...

"_CRUCIO!!!!"_

Hermione screamed as the pain, which she had thought was as bad as it could possibly be, worsened. Her eyes began to darken, and her breath became weak and thin. Even as the curse of pain was finally lifted, she began to fall into darkness...

Right before her eyes darkened she heard Harry scream, "FILTHY COWARD!" and Voldemort shout, "_AVADA KEDAVRA_!"


	2. Awakenings

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

_Beep..._

Hermione's eyes flickered open only a crack, the fluorescent lights burning through her eyelids like knives. Before she snapped them shut again, she saw Ginny sitting by her bedside reading a book, and Ron next to her, fast asleep. The scene gave her comfort, and it wasn't long before she drifted slowly back into slumber.

_Beep, Beep, Beep, Beep, _

_...Beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep..._

"Paddles!"

Hermione felt her eyes open only a crack before she felt her body being jolted with paddles. Her body leapt as the first shock was delivered to her system...

She slipped away slowly...knowing she would never get to see Harry or Ron or Ginny ever again...

...knowing she was dead.

Hermione's eyes shot open, but this time, there was no shock of blinding light, and there wasn't a crowd of healers surrounding her. In fact, it was pitch black in the room except for a small beam of moonlight streaking through the barely opened window. She turned her head to face the window, feeling the pressure of the cool, pale light against he brown irises. It was a mesmerizing pearl color...so beautiful. Reluctantly, she drew her eyes away from the window and looked down at her body...it was covered in a thin, light blue sheet. She was in a hospital bed. She looked up at the wall near the door, where there sat a small plaque that read "Room 79B, S.M.H."

_SMH..._Hermione thought broodingly. Then it hit her. _St. Mungo's Hospital. _

In a slight state on panic, Hermione began to twist and turn in her bed, gazing at her surroundings. There was a monitor beside her, showing her vital signs. Hermione had a 119 heart rate (_No wonder, _she thought) and a 100.7 temperature. Hermione was slightly unnerved to realize that she had no idea why she was here...the last thing she remembered was looking into the eyes of someone...someone who's features were cold and crisp, who's eyes gleamed red with passion and fervor...then she remembered, and her entire body froze in realization. Voldemort.

She jumped a foot in the air, and instinctively clutched the sheets up to her chest protectively as a young female doctor stepped in. She had a serious expression on her face, and she was scribbling on a clipboard. She also held a small vile of potion in her hand. She started as she saw Hermione was awake.

"Oh my--" she cried. She paused for a moment to collect herself, then smiled.

"You're awake!" she cried, somewhat incredulously. Hermione didn't answer. She was still in a state of shock. The healer, however, didn't seem disconcerted by Hermione's silence.

"That's really good...you've been out for weeks," she said.

"Who are you?" asked Hermione blankly.

"I'm Doctor Bergman," she said, still smiling. "You can call me Jill."

Hermione still didn't answer, but her fierce grip on the sheets loosened a bit. Jill looked down at her clipboard and began scribbling on her paper like a maniac, reminding Hermione slightly of Rita Skeeter.

"How do you feel?" asked Jill, not looking up.

Hermione thought about it for a moment. How _did _she feel?

"I...err...okay," said Hermione slowly. "A bit overwhelmed."

"That's normal," Jill assured her, her words bringing Hermione little comfort.

The truth was, she felt thoroughly miserable. Everything was spinning around in her head a mile a minute and nothing stayed very long. She was trying desperately to remember, with every inch of her strength, but every time she got close to an answer, it would slip away like water through fingers.

"Do you feel nauseated..."

"No," said Hermione quickly. "What happened to me?"

Jill looked up for the first time in a few minutes and sighed.

"I think you would be better off hearing it from someone else."

Hermione eyed her curiously. Jill scratched the tip of her nose self-consciously.

"Where are my friends?" asked Hermione.

"Well, many of them have stopped coming as frequently, because you've been asleep for four weeks. But that one, Harry Potter, stayed by your bedside the whole time. He just left, actually."

"But why am I here? Why was I asleep for four weeks?" asked Hermione insistently.

"We've had to keep you asleep with sleeping potions," admitted Jill, brandishing the small vile. "The...ordeal--shall we say--left you in a state of shock. We had to give your brain time to reboot, and your body time to relax and go back to normal."

"What ordeal?" asked Hermione. "I want to know!"

"Please," said Jill, in a harsh voice. Hermione recoiled, and Jill seemed to realize she had spoken rather rudely. She gave Hermione a melancholy smile that was meant to be comforting, but only made Hermione more annoyed. She was seventeen...no longer was she a little girl.

"It's really not my place," said Jill. "You'd rather hear it from your friends anyway."

Hermione gave a small, inaudible sigh and looked around the room, her eyes trailing over a _Daily Prophet _on the counter. '_Potter Boy Vanquishes Dark Lord, but at a Terrible Price' _the cover read.

"What--?" began Hermione, but Jill snatched the paper away quickly, nestling it under her many other papers. She flipped down the pages of her clipboard and smiled.

"You'll see your friends tomorrow," she said. "And take this."

She handed Hermione the potion and Hermione reluctantly, yet obligingly, took it, welcoming the sweet slumber that followed.


	3. Revelations

_Hermione whipped around in the dark, a long blue cloak around her shoulders, its corners snapping wildly in the wind. She tried to escape the darkness that was pressing against her eyes, but to no avail. Suddenly, she saw two red eyes gleaming out from under the blanket of night, and she gasped. _

_As soon as it had appeared, it was gone, but Hermione was suddenly able to see clearly again. She was in a strange sort of graveyard, dark and dreary. She peered around, afraid of what she might meet. She took a few steps towards the largest gravestone, which had a huge statue over it. She leaned forward and read the inscription. _

_"Tom Marvolo Riddle," she read quietly to herself. She gasped as she realized who it was. She took a step backwards and her foot hit something rather soft. She turned around and let out a blood-curdling scream. She had run into the body of Cedric Diggory. She stumbled backwards, into the arms of someone very cold. She whipped around like lightning and screamed as she saw who it was. Lord Voldemort. _

_"Time to continue what I started," sneered Voldemort coldly. _

_"W-what are you talking about?!" screamed Hermione hysterically. "Leave me alone!_

_"Don't you remember?" cooed Voldemort coldly. "How I practically tortured you into insanity? You filthy little Mudblood...what do you know of pain? What do you know of the terrible pain us _real _wizards must endure every day?"_

_Hermione barely heard the offensive insult. She plunged her hands into her robe pockets in search of her wand...but it wasn't there._

_"Looking for this?" asked Voldemort, who, as Hermione looked up, was spinning Hermione's wand in his fingers. _

_"Give it back!" screamed Hermione, lunging for it. It vanished in a puff of smoke. _

_Suddenly, her back arched so fiercely that she was forced to fall back onto the ground, her head echoing painfully as it thudded against the marshy ground. She let out a moan as she began to thrash and spasm. Her eyes rolled back in her head...there was no pain...there was just...nothing. Nothing around her, nothing inside of her...she had lost control. _

_Hermione could barely contain a gasp as she opened her lunchbox as she noticed that someone had left a small, pink, heart-shaped valentine in her lunchbox. On the front it read "From Mrs. Derby's class."_

_She opened it up, finally hoping that someone would compliment her, but she was disappointed. _

_**Go make a coffin out of books and die.**_

_The words barely made sense, but she knew that they had meant her harm, and that hurt her deeper than anything else. She ripped the card in half and threw it into the toilet underneath her. She had taken to eating lunch in the bathroom. At least there she could read her books while she ate, and no one would keep snatching it from her hands and bending the pages in all sorts of horrible ways. She had a strange fetish that she liked to keep the binding of her paperback books smooth...her worst fear was that a small, wrinkly white line would inch it's way down the binding of a perfect paperback book, and she hated that. The children in her class loved to do that. On particularly bad days, they'd scribble over or tear out the pages. Sometimes she would even cry, but the teacher assured her that she could easily buy another copy. Her parents were always convinced it was Hermione's fault. _

_"NOO!" screamed Hermione as she awoke and two white hands reached for her throat...his red eyes gleaming. _

_"_Die_..." whispered Voldemort. _

_--------------_

"NO!"

_CRACK._

"Holy--!"

"Oh, _Hermione_!"

Hermione fell back against the pillows as her eyes watered in pain. She rubbed her forehead, as a large lump was slowly rising. She opened her eyes and saw that Ron, Harry, Fred, George and Ginny were all sitting around her bed...and Ron was rubbing his head too.

"What the hell?!" cried Hermione, jumping about a foot in the air. "What are you--"

But her open mouth was immediately filled with ginger red hair..

"Oh, Hermione! I can't _believe _it..."

It was Ginny. Hermione wrapped her arms around Ginny's small frame and squeezed.

"Ginny?" whispered Hermione.

"You didn't need to sit up so damn straight in bed, 'Mione," growled Ron, who's own eyes were watering.

"What?" asked Hermione, looking around.

"You were, like, screaming' or something, and then you woke up, sat up straight in bed and whacked the crap out of Ronny," explained Fred, ruffling Ron's hair.

"Bug off," growled Ron, shoving Fred away. Hermione couldn't help but laugh, still massaging her own mortal wound. Self-consciously, she rubbed around her throat...nothing.

"Oh, Hermione!" cried Ginny, whose eyes were filled with tears. "We were so worried about you!"

"We didn't know if you would wake up," added George.

"Are you hungry?" asked Ron, holding out a piece of bread and a small cup of water. It was only then that Hermione realized how hungry she really was. She reached out, but then drew back. She eyed the food suspiciously, and Ron gave a mirthless chuckle.

"It's fine; you're safe."

Hermione paused only a moment longer before grabbing the bread and stuffing it in her mouth. She chewed and chewed faster than she had ever in her life, her jaws screaming in protest, but her stomach screaming louder. She swallowed the bread and drained the small cup in one gulp.

"_Aguamenti," _said Ginny firmly, pointing her wand at the cup. It immediately filled with crystal clear water. Hermione only got a few feeble gulps of water down before it caught in her throat. She coughed violently, her harsh wheezes wracking her frail frame. The cup seemed to fall in slow motion from her hand, but the crackly crash of plastic and water against marble made her suddenly sensitive ears throb and ache. She felt a pang of thankfulness as Ginny's small hand held her hair away from Hermione's face as she leaned over the bed and vomited.

Ginny patted Hermione's back gently and waved her wand around the muck to clean it up.

"It's alright," she heard Ron say. Hermione, exhausted, wiped her mouth and leaned back in bed. Her throat was raw and she felt utterly filthy and thoroughly miserable. She gave a bitter laugh.

"FYI," she muttered. "When girls say they don't look good in the morning, it's not usually _this _bad..."

The boys all chuckled. There was a short silence before Hermione spoke.

"What happened to me?" asked Hermione. The Weasleys exchanged anxious glances, and they all parted to look at Harry. He was the only one who hadn't spoken.

"H-hello, Harry," said Hermione. He didn't answer.

"You've got to tell her, mate," said Ron quietly. The rest of them nodded. "I mean...most of us...I mean...we were all there..."

They all looked very uncomfortable, especially Harry.

"I need to know," said Hermione, getting annoyed.

"Voldemort...I'm so sorry," whispered Harry. Hermione looked at him gently.

"Please, anyone," she implored softly.

"Voldemort tortured you," said Ron.

"Multiple times," added Fred.

Hermione didn't say anything. She still couldn't quite understand what the huge deal was...Voldemort had tortured hundreds of witches and wizards...why now was Hermione stuck in a hospital bed with a bunch of stuttering red-heads?

"The healers said that only a bit longer, and we would have...you would have...lost it," said Harry softly.

"What?" whispered Hermione. "N-no, that's impossible..."

"I'm so sorry, Hermione," said Harry softly. She looked down at the ground, still in shock.

"Who else was there?" she whispered.

"Well, some other people from Hogwarts," said Ron. "Luna, Neville...everyone from the Order; Tonks, Lupin, Shacklebolt, my mum and dad..." It was here that Ron seemed to have gotten a large rock stuck in his throat, as he looked as though he was trying very hard to keep down tears.

"Where are they?" asked Hermione, half not wanting to know. They all exchanged nervous glances.

"Neville's dead," said George.

"_What?" _breathed Hermione, her hands to her mouth.

"Murdered in cold blood," muttered Ron darkly.

"We thought he'd killed Ginny, as a matter of fact," admitted Fred. "But then Neville fell over...and--that was it." There was dead silence in the room. Not a single person spoke, and Hermione could not believe that poor, innocent Neville was dead.

"And Luna?" breathed Hermione.

"Next door, actually," said Ginny, her tone brightening a bit. "She got his with this spell...took her a few days to wake up, but she's fine."

Hermione nodded. One moment she was in perfect control, trying to block out all emotion until they were all gone, and the next, she had broken out in hysterical sobs. There was no other sound in the room.

"Why did he have to die?" whispered Hermione. "It's not fair!" she shrieked, tears streaming through her fingers. Eyes in her palms, she cried and cried until she was so tired. It had been silent for so long that everyone had left the uncomfortable scene, but as she removed her sopping hands, she started. Harry was still there.

"Oh, Harry," she whimpered. "It's not fair."

Harry didn't answer. He was just staring out the window.

"I couldn't protect them," he said after a long silence. Hermione sniffed.

"What?" she whispered. "I couldn't protect Neville or Luna or Tonks or Mrs. Weasley--"

"Mrs. Weasley and Tonks are dead?" cried Hermione. Harry put his face in his hands and sighed.

"Oh...no, no!" breathed Hermione. "That's impossible. It's not true!" She climbed out of her bed and walked robotically to the window. Her arms were crossed as she stared out the window. The sun was setting. The sky was a brilliant scene of violent pinks and oranges...a scene much too happy for Hermione's liking at the moment.

"And I couldn't protect you," whispered Harry. She turned her head and their eyes locked momentarily.

"But you did protect me!" whispered Hermione.

Harry looked away.

"Look at me!" cried Hermione, suddenly impatient. She was infuriated when he did not, so she kept going. She certainly had a lot to say.

"I am so sick of you and everyone else giving each other these stupid looks like I might shatter if you tell me something! Well, as big of a shock as this may come to you, Harry, I am a big girl! I don't need these patronizing people all around me when all I really want is answers!"

Harry looked sadly up at the ceiling, still not meeting her eyes. She let out a cry of fury as she raised her hand and slapped him across the face. He raised his hand slowly to his cheek, a red hot burn marking where she'd hit him. She raised her hand to strike again, wanting to wipe that stupid, emotionless look of his face, but he shot out an arm and grabbed her wrist. She let out a shriek and wrenched it out of his grip, storming away and back into her bed.

"Coward," she hissed. "I don't have time for this, nor for you. Now, please leave me alone."

Harry looked at her sadly.

"You don't mean that," he said as more of a statement than anything else.

"No," said Hermione slowly. "I really _really _do."

Harry narrowed his eyes.

"I've had my tears," he said softly. "It's not my problem if you haven't had yours."

And with that, he stood up and made for the door. Hermione was left speechless. How could he be so cold? How could he leave her in a time like this? His hand was on the doorknob.

"Wait!" she called. He turned around.

"I...I don't want to be alone tonight," whimpered Hermione, tears ruining her attempt at a firm voice. Harry paused momentarily before nodding and closing the door. He came over and sat on her bed. Suddenly, Hermione swung her legs over the side of the bed and wrapped her arms around Harry's torso. She rested her cheek in the crook of his neck and began to cry.

"I...I'm so sorry for what I did," she whispered. "I didn't mean to...I just..."

"It's alright," said Harry, holding her close. "I know you...I mean...I know..."

And for what seemed like hours, Harry and Hermione stayed there in each other's arms, until they both fell asleep.


	4. Ocurrances

**A/N:** Sorry about the long wait...the fault is all my own.

* * *

Hermione awoke gently, greeting the streaming sunlight like Christmas morning. She let out a small, happy moan of pleasure and stretched her taut muscles. She froze, mid-stretch as she remembered where she was and why.

She turned over to see Ginny sitting next to the bed, reading, this time, a different book.

"Ginny..." she whispered. Ginny looked up and smiled, wedging a scrap of paper into her novel as a crude bookmark and setting it aside.

"How are you feeling?" asked Ginny.

"Fine," said Hermione. "Better than yesterday."

Ginny nodded.

"Where's Harry?" asked Hermione, sitting up a little straighter in bed.

"He went to get some coffee and biscuits from the lounge," replied Ginny. "He said he'd bring you some in case you woke up."

"Brilliant," replied Hermione with a smile, relishing in the thought of hot coffee and sweet biscuits in her stomach. As if on cue, Harry pushed open the door levitating three cups of coffee and carrying a plate of a delicious-looking assortment of cakes and biscuits.

"Hermione!" he cried, resting the floating cups and the plate on a nearby table. "How are you?" he asked.

"Fine," replied Hermione, reaching over and snatching a biscuit.

"Fred and George had to go to work today," said Ginny. "So it's just us."

"Thanks so much for staying here with me," said Hermione gratefully. "Because you really don't have to..."

"Come off it," said Harry. "We're not leaving you here all alone."

"But...you have jobs, and--"

"Work doesn't start till noon, Hermione," said Ginny. "I work here, actually. Part-time. I want to be a healer."

"Really? You mean...permanently?" asked Hermione incredulously.

"Well, fat chance I'm going to be a pro-Quidditch player," said Ginny, laughing. "I figured this is second best, right?"

Hermione laughed.

"I'm going to miss playing for Gryffindor, though," admitted Ginny. "I'm going to miss kicking Slytherin's ass for the Quiditch cup...what was it--five years in a row? You were a great captain, Harry," she said, thumping him on the back.

"Was I?" said Harry, a dazed look on his face.

"Oh, bloody hell!" shrieked Ginny, standing up, her eyes on her watch. "Eleven fifty-nine! I've gotta go! See you, Hermione."

She scurried out the door and left Hermione and Harry alone in the room. Hermione was midly surprised to realize that talking with solely Harry was a lot harder than it used to be. There was a long and tedious silence.

"Beautiful day," said Hermione finally.

"Oh...yeah," said Harry, a dazed look on his face. "Gorgeous." Another silence followed.

"Harry," began Hermione. "I want to know everything."

It wasn't a request, it was a question that she was _going _to have answered, and Harry knew it.

He looked at her solemnly, with a bit of unprompted remorse.

"They brought you to St. Mungo's," he began quietly. "And you were screaming and moaning...just..._horribly_...they had to put you to sleep for hours and hours...they said that the pain you were feeling was unbearable, and they didn't want you going into shock."

Hermione nodded slowly...not as confirmation, but as making sure that she was still able to move. She hated hearing this, but she knew that she had to know.

"And then...you...died..."

Hermione closed eyes shot open, and she gaped at him.

"What?" she breathed.

"They had to shock you back to life," said Harry. There was a long silence as he rubbed his forehead with his fingers...she thought she heard the tip of a sob.

"Harry, look..." she began softly, suddenly feeling regretful that she had asked so much of him in such a short space of time. "You don't have to...to tell me now. You can tell me later...when you're ready..."

"No. I mean...no, you need to know now," he said.

Hermione sat back again, waiting.

"I--" began Harry, but he was interrupted as Jill, the healer, walked in with a broad smile on her face.

"Good news!" she cried. Hermione and Harry looked up at her. Jill's smile vanished at their grim faces. "Oh...I'm sorry," she said quickly. "Was I interrupting something?"

"N-no," replied Hermione. "What is it?"

"Well, the doctor got a final checkup on you...you're free to go!" replied Jill. Hermione couldn't help but smile. All she wanted to do was get out of this wretched hospital and see all of her friends.

"That's great!" cried Harry, turning to Hermione and smiling. "We can take you home now!"

"Yes," said Jill. "All you have to do is take an anxiety potion every three to four hours and you should be fine. You might want to try a sleeping potion every once in a while before bed...you know, just to speed the process along."

"Why do I need to keep taking potions?" asked Hermione, not exactly relishing in the thought of having to drink large doses of potion every few hours, which was rather inconvenient.

"To help with the trauma," replied Jill. "and avoid any night terrors."

"Night terrors?" asked Harry.

"Basically just very vivid, realistic nightmares," explained Jill. "But, we figured that that's basically all we're doing to you here anyway, and an eighteen-year-old witch should be more than capable of knocking back a drink every few hours, so we're discharging you. You'll probably heal faster in a more friendly, familiar environment anyway." She set down her clipboard and turned off Hermione's heart rate moniter.

"I could run and get you some clothes to wear home," Harry offered kindly, standing up at once.

"Well," said Jill. "We still have the clothes you wore when you came here, but they're a bit grungy. How far away is your home?"

Hermione was about to answer, saying that her parents lived in Bristol, when Harry spoke. "It's fine," he replied quickly. "I can get her some."

Hermione didn't know what to say. She didn't know why...a simple "thank you" would have sufficed, but for some reason, she said no such thing.

"You don't know my size," Hermione said lamely.

"I've known you for seven years," said Harry. "I think I can figure it out. I'll be back in about an hour, okay?" He pecked her head with a kiss in a brotherly sort of way and with a pop, apparated away.

* * *

Hermione sighed at the click of the lock. Though she knew it would be no use against _Alohamora, _it gave her a sense of security and privacy. Since Hermione had no real home to go to, she had been invited to stay at the Black home, which was still being used as the Headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix. Though there was no real use for it anymore, Moody had said that it was what Dumbledore would have wanted to have the Order keep going as a secret Auror society for fighting against Dark Wizards. Everyone from the order had come back to spend some time, including Harry.

Turning to the mirror, she removed her clothes tenderly, and set them aside, relishing in the somwhat erotic feel of her silky hair against her bare shoulders. Slowly, but surely she stepped gingerly into the shower.

After a moment of fiddling with the knobs she finally found a comfortable temperature. She leaned her head back and let the hot water stream through her hair, down her shoulders and over her eyes. A steamy cocoon engulfed her every sense.

After a moment of stewing she turned around, looking for a shampoo bottle, when her foot slid out from underneath her. Suddenly her leg was taut and her head banged against the faucet. A splitting pain shot through her body and she cried out.

She collapsed forward, her hands not being able to brace out fast enough, and her chest whacked against the porcelain tub floor with a grisly crack.

She heard a knock on the door.

"Hermione?"

It was Harry.

"Hermione, are you okay?"

She heard the words, "I'm fine," erupt from her lips, even though she didn't mean them, before she slowly slipped into darkness.

* * *

"Hermione!"

"_Hermione_!"

Hermione's eyes shot open as she heard a bang. Everything hit her at once. The whish of the shower curtain, Harry's face silhouetted against the blinding fluorescent lights and freezing water dripping from her hair and limbs.

There were splashes as Harry pulled her from the bottom of the tub and flung a towel around her dripping shoulders. She was shivering violently, her lips blue and her face white. She was slightly taken aback when Harry pulled her very close.

"W-what are you doing?" she whispered through chattering teeth.

"Trying to generate body heat," he replied, rubbing her shoulders and arms. "You must have fallen asleep in the tub. Who knows how long you could have been in that freezing shower?"

Hermione flushed with awkwardness at mistaking Harry's security measure as a--what was the word--loving?--embrace. Then, he looked up and his eyes widened.

"Hermione!" he cried, his fingers pushing away the sopping hair from her eyes to reveal a horrible cut at her hairline. He pushed her down so she sat on the top of the toilet seat as he examined the wound further. Blood was seeping slowly from it, but a great deal of blood had dried and stained her skin pink.

"You hit your head!" he cried. "What did you do? What happened?"

"I…fell," admitted Hermione.

"You didn't fall asleep?" he asked.

"No," she said quietly. Harry sighed and pulled out his wand. Muttering slightly under his breath, the wounds began to knit themselves back together. A final cleansing spell cleansed the wound of all blood. Hermione touched it gingerly with cold fingertips.

"Thanks," she said.

"You taught me that one," he said. "Right before…the battle with Voldemort. You told me to use this if I ever got something bad…"

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I remember very little."

Harry shrugged mirthlessly. "It's probably better that way anyhow," he said, beginning to massage her shoulders again.

After minutes of this, Harry pulled away and tied her hair up, squeezing the water out. Hermione made to stand up fully when she let out a scream. Pain shot through her body, and she crunched back into a ball.

"What is it?" asked Harry, apprehensively.

"I don't know..." moaned Hermione. "M-my chest...it hurts!"

"Probably a broken rib," said Harry bleakly. "Come on." He held her hand and helped her hobble over to his bed, where he asked her to lay flat on the bed. She looked at him strangely.

"I won't look," Harry promised, his ears turning pink. Hermione pursed her lips and lay flat on the bed where Harry drew his wand, murmered a few words, and her ribs began to knit back together. He covered her exposed chest with her bathrobe and Hermione sat up, rubbing her closing ribs.

"Ugh," she moaned, massaging them. She stood up, and grunted. "Oooh...They still really hurt." She looked over at Harry, who had his hand on the doorknob to leave.

"Harry, wait," she said quickly. He turned around.

Her cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"W-would you...umm...would you help me get dressed?"

Harry froze, his eyes wide.

"Please?" asked Hermione. "Just for help...nothing, you know..."

"Umm...uh, alright..." said Harry slowly, shutting the door. He walked over the dresser slowly and picked out a large T-shirt for her to wear and some jeans.

Hermione flushed as trembling fingers removed the bathrobe from her shoulders. He brought the shirt over her head first, rather quickly, and helped her stick her arms through the holes. He unfolded the newly-ironed jeans and helped her into them as Hermione spoke the words she had been thinking about for a while now, and dreading.

"Harry?" she whispered.

"Yeah?"

Hermione gulped and closed her eyes.

"Are my parents dead?" she whispered quickly, wanting nothing more than to get the question over with. There was dead silence in the room. Not the clink of a belt buckle, not even the sound of birds outside. Utter and complete silence.

"W-why would you ask that?" asked Harry finally.

"I dunno," she said in a low voice.

"Yes," said Harry after a long breath. "We found them in their house about a week after you were hospitalized."

Hermione didn't cry, she didn't even move. She was so used to loss by now that she barely flinched.

"Hermione...I'm so sorry," he murmered, putting a hand on her shoulder. Hermione felt like novacaine was coating her entire body. She did not experience the normal aching pain in her throat or the sense of loss...all she felt was a hot streak on her cheek as the first tear fell. Soon, she was sobbing. Not the sweet, innocent whimpering-cry like the girls in movies, but the repulsive, wheezing, noisy sob that wracked her whole body and had her make strange, almost donkey-worthy sonds when she knew that nothing in her life would ever be the same.

"Harry..." she managed to croak out after what seemed like hours of crying. "Harry, I don't know what's come over me...Nothing's the same...everything's different...there's nothing left to live for..."

And, without any warning, without any sense of coherancy, through her tears and greif, she found her lips pressed against Harry's. In the farthest corners of her mind, she was screaming to get out and to stop kissing him, but it was so easy to just stay here in his arms. She leaned in to deepen the kiss, but Harry pulled away.

"Hermione..." he murmered. "I..." But the truth was, neither of them knew who had kissed who. They just knew that it had happened.

"I don't know how that happened..." she said.

"I don't know what came over me," he mumbled. "I just..."

"I know," she said, blinking slowly. There was a soft knock on the door.

"Harry? Harry, are you in there?"

"Yes, Mr. Weasley!" called Harry. "I'll be out in a moment!"

"Dinner's on the table. If you're lucky you'll get to the pudding before Ron..."

Hermione snickered.

"Just like old times," she said, grinning slightly.

"Yeah, except it's not," said Harry grimly.

"All right, so why'd you have to go and ruin the moment?" snapped Hermione.

"Sorry," he replied. "I'm just trying to be realistic."

"Well, I'm not _trying _to be realistic, Harry, I'm trying to make my peace with this!" she snapped, standing up and walking to the door, wincing at the pain in her ribs and buckling her belt.

"Hermione," said Harry quickly. She turned to look at him.

"I'm sorry," he said. She nodded slowly.

"All right," she replied. "Thank you."


	5. Returning

**A/N:** Okay, I know I haven't updated since July 24th, (about a week an a half after the release of the 5th movie), but I have been really busy, and sort of obsessed with House. But, I just _bought _the fifth movie, and I'm on an HP whirl. Enjoy.

* * *

Hermione had had the sensation only a few times before. That awful, self-concious feeling of walking into a room with a couple people, knowing that they had just been talking about her only two seconds before. However, here it was much different. Everyone in the entire room, Mr. Weasley, Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, Lupin and Moody, froze, sat up straight in their seats and either stared at Hermione, or silently picked at their food. She smiled weakly.

"Hello, everyone," she said politely, taking a seat in between Ron and Ginny, as Harry took the seat on the other side of Ron. Ron rubbed her back comfortingly then helped her to pile mashed potatoes and salmon onto her plate.

"How are you feeling?"

Hermione looked up at Lupin, who looked thinner and grayer than ever before.

"Okay," she answered truthfully. The pain in her ribs was almost gone.

"You were up there an awful long time," said Moody, looking slightly suspicious.

"I..." started Hermione, and her eyes flicked only momentarily to Harry. It was a mark of the strength of Harry's respect for her that he did not tell them the truth.

"I was taking a nap," she said quickly. "You know..." She trailed off, and no one said anything. She forked a small piece of pink meat into her mouth. It was chewy, stringy and cold...she missed Mrs. Weasley's cooking.

"How is everyone?" she asked pleasantly.

Silence.

"How's Luna?" she asked tentatively, looking over in the direction of Ginny. Noticing that it was herself who had been addressed, Ginny looked up from her plate.

"Oh...she's fine," she replied. "She's coming to visit tomorrow... her father barely let her out of his sight, but she managed."

"That's great!" said Hermione enthusiastically. "She's never been to the Burrow before, has she?"

"No," said Ginny, shaking her head. The smiles on their faces eventually died away, and no one spoke for quite some time. Hermione peeked over at Harry from time to time, who also looked at her, but he did not smile, nor give any words of comfort.

Finally, the uncomfortable meal was over, and Hermione laid down her fork.

"May I be excused?" she asked quietly. Mr. Weasley nodded a bit and she stood up abruptly from the table, waving her wand and cleaning up the dishes. She hurried out of the room and up the stairs. As soon as she reached her own room, she crumpled onto the bed in distress.

Is this how it would always be? So uncomfortable that they would go meals without speaking? She wanted things to go back to normal. She wanted to live deliberately, not just walking around like a ghost. Suddenly, she felt a tingling in her toes. She tried to reach down to feel them, but she found that she could not move. Suddenly, her body shot back, so that she lying face up, rigid as a board, fingers and toes stretched taut and her face frozen in a look of horror. Her eyes burned with lack of tears...

_Suddenly, all was pitch black...she could see nothing. She was wandering alone in a dark corridor, it seemed. Over and over again, she whispered, "Lumos..." until she was screaming it into the recurring silence -- partly because she needed to hear her own voice._

_"_You can see now_," whispered a cold voice, which pierced the darkness like a knife. "_They are frightened of you..."

_"No!" choked Hermione. "Who are you?!"_

_"_You know who I am, silly girl... and you know of whom I speak. You are afraid that the Potter boy will leave you...that he has no real feelings for you..."

_"No!" cried Hermione again. "I . . . Harry's my friend!"_

_"_And the weasel's family... you fear they no longer care for you_..."_

_"Shut up!" screamed Hermione, struggling to clamp her hands over her ears. "Stop it! Shut up!"_

_"Harry James Potter does not love you!"_

_"NO!"_

"Hermione!"

Hermione's eyes shot open and cold air filled her lungs. Her face was coated in sweat and her hair stuck to her head in wet locks. She began to breathe heavily and her eyes watered, spilling hot tears from her eyes. A frightened Ginny stood over her bed.

"Hermione? Are you alright?"

Hermione tried to sit up, but she was still weak.

"I..." she began. "I'm not sure..."

"You were muttering...you seemed to be in a sort of trance, you did. Mumbling things like--" she caught herself just in time.

Hermione gulped, and stared at Ginny with a look that said everything.

"I won't tell," replied Ginny solemnly. "It's none of my business, anyway."

Hermione gave a short nod and found that she could now sit up. Ginny allowed her to get her bearings temporarily before asking her question quietly.

"Hermione... were you really taking a nap?"

Hermione flicked her eyes up slightly, not moving her head. Slowly, but firmly, she shook her head.

"I didn't think so," said Ginny, her hand patting Hermione's back softly. "What happened?"

"Nothing," she replied quickly. "Nothing happened . . . Why are you up here anyway?"

"They told me to come up and check on you," said Ginny.

"They?" reapeated Hermione skeptically.

"Well . . . Ron, and I could tell Harry was thinking the same thing."

"Well, I'm fine," said Hermione, in a tone a bit snappier than she'd meant it to sound. She gave Ginny a quick smile to compensate, then repeated what she'd just said.

"No," said Ginny, sitting down next to Hermione. "No, you're not fine. You were in a coma for four weeks . . . people have died in those four weeks. . . Hermione, you were almost tortured to _death_by Voldemort--"

"Ginny, I know you're just trying to help, but I would really appreciate it if you would just not talk about it right now."

Ginny opened her mouth to reply, but thought better of it.

"You'd rather talk to Harry," she said. It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

"It's not you, Ginny," said Hermione.

"Of course not," said Ginny, and Hermione could detect the coldness in her voice.

"Ginny!" she said, but Ginny had already walked out the door.

* * *

A few hours later, there was a knock on the door. Hermione looked up. 

"Come in," she said softly.

The door opened and Harry came in. He closed the door softly behind him, then laid back against the wall, looking at Hermione, his hands in his pockets.

"Yes?" she said, putting her bookmark into the crease of her book and setting it down on the bed.

Harry said nothing, just continued to stare at her. Hermione cocked one eyebrow.

"I'm listening . . . you know-- if you wanted to say something. Eventually," she said.

Harry looked at her for a few moments more before speaking. "Hermione," he said softly. "What happened between us . . . earlier . . ."

Hermione didn't really know what he was going to say, so she kept quiet. Harry sighed.

"It shouldn't have happened."

"It's not your fault," said Hermione. "You were being a friend, and I . . . it was my fault, Harry."

"I think it was both of us," said Harry. "And I just wanted to say that . . . I'm sorry."

Hermione nodded. She had to admit that it wasn't the worst thing in the world that she had kissed Harry. No one knew, except for maybe Ginny, and she only had a hunch. No one would ever have to know that they kissed. Harry walked over and sat next to her on the bed.

"How are you?" he asked. "Really?"

She closed her eyes momentarily, but a memory of Voldemort's ruby-red eyes gleaming under her lids at her was a bit too vivid for her, and she opened them back up.

"Horrible," she whispered. "I know he's gone, Harry. I know he's dead . . . "

Harry watched her, his face laced with worry for her.

" . . . but I keep seeing him everywhere, Harry. In my dreams . . . sometimes even --- before Ginny came up, I had this sort of . . . fit. A seizure of some kind. Voldemort was there and he was speaking to me . . . "

"What was he saying?" asked Harry.

Hermione closed her eyes again as the memories ran through her head.

"_Harry Potter does not love you!"_

"When I went downstairs, to eat," began Hermione, ignoring his question. "Harry, that was horrible."

"I know," said Harry. "But it's going to take a while for things to go back to normal."

"I know they were all talking about me," said Hermione.

"Well, yeah," said Harry, a bit awkwardly. "But, you know . . . Remus, especially, with Tonks gone. And Ron's family is still shaken from Mrs. Weasley dying."

Hermione nodded.

"This is barely a happy ending," she whispered.

"It's not an ending," said Harry ominously. She looked at him, and suddenly she wrapped her arms around him and buried her face in his chest. His shirt was warm, and she could feel his heart beating steadily underneath it.

"I'm scared, Harry . . ."

He stroked her hair softly .

"I know."


	6. Punishments

**A/N:** Okay, I realized that I made a mistake. In one chapter, I said that she was at the Headquarters for the Order, then in another I said that she was at the Burrow. I've decided on settling on one place -- the Headquarters.

* * *

Weeks passed at Number 12 Grimmauld Place, rather like they would anywhere else. Remus was spending less and less time with the Weasleys, and people like Moody barely showed up at all. But that didn't stop them from trying to make the coming season more jolly than ever. As Mr. Weasley was so keen on reminding them all, "Christmas is still Christmas."

Even Hermione, whose first week at Headquarters had seemed so very bleak, was starting to enjoy herself more and more. Even the horrifying, Voldemort-riddled dreams that had plagued her so often were slowly starting to drift away. Hermione couldn't have felt more at home at Headquarters, and having Harry and Ron there as well only helped her to ease back into her normal routine. They were constantly trying to distract her from the fact that she now had no parents to go home to. Father Christmas hats now sat on top of the mounted heads of every house-elf hanging from the walls; every wall was gleaming with rainbow Christmas lights, and an enourmous tree was set up in the living room, tinsel hugging its full branches with ease and small white lights twinkling from every knook and cranny.

It was a chilly Saturday, only a few days before Christmas that Hermione found herself in the top-most room, staring out the window at the falling snow as she folded freshly-laundered linen. She hummed a quiet tune to herself, when she heard the door open. It was Lupin.

"Hello, Remus!" she called brightly. "You haven't been here in a while!"

Lupin smiled serenely. "No, no I suppose I haven't."

"How are you?" she asked, turning back to her laundry.

"I'm fine, Hermione, how are you?" echoed Lupin calmly.

"Very good, actually," she said, whipping out a large sheet and measuring up the corners.

"Hermione, listen," said Lupin. "I know things have been . . . tough, since, you know . . .

"I'm really okay," said Hermione. "Really."

Lupin nodded, but Hermione could tell he had much more to say.

"Harry won't tell me anything," he continued. "And rightly so, I didn't really expect him to, but I want you to know, Hermione, that . . . if you are . . . in any way--"

He paused, and took a deep breath.

"If Lord Voldemort is still . . . alive, in some way, we need to know."

Hermione blinked. Of course, it was so clear now.

They thought she was posessed.

"I know that," she said. "I would tell you, Remus, I swear."

"And," he said finally. "On a less extreme note; I'm here, if you ever need anything."

Hermione smiled. "Thank you." Lupin nodded and turned to go.

"Have you gotten your gift for Harry yet?" asked Lupin, turning back. Hermione giggled .

"No, I have no idea what to get him."

Lupin nodded. "Well, if you have any thoughts-- discarded ideas--let me know." Hermione giggled again.

"Of course."

Hermione's eyes rested on the oak door that once held the image of Lupin for a few moments. It made her feel childlike; the fact that everyone was tiptoeing around her like she was a bomb about to shoot of a million curses at once. She knew that nothing would ever be the same again, and that the only way to fix everything that had happened was time. She looked outside at the snow. Ginny was out there, packed in scarves, mittens and coats, flinging garden gnomes over the fence, where they hiked up their trousers and hurried off into the distance. Hermione giggled as Ginny swore loudly.

"How are things down there, Gin?" she called through the window.

"Bloody peachy, 'Mione!" shouted Ginny, obviously full of adrenaline. Hermione giggled.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a sensation unlike any she had ever felt before -- like a vision she'd had of Voldemort, but this was ten times worse, and ten times more powerful. She reached out to clutch the window sill, but her knees buckled underneath her so quick that she had no time to gain balance of her trembling body, and she crumpled to the ground. There was a sharp pain in her head and visions came to her faster than ever.

_"You think you are so lucky to be alive..." hissed the voice terrifyingly. "I'll make you miserable till you're dead."_

_Hermione let out a piercing scream and suddenly..._

She was awake. But something was wrong... horribly, horribly wrong. She felt her eyes, the soft lids and the bristly lashes. Tears fell from them and she screamed.

She was blind.

* * *

**A/N:**Short, I know. But I thought it an appropriate ending. 


End file.
